THIS STORY CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR "SHELLS"!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!! Title: Leading Me Home Author: Foxhunt2blue Summary: When you lose your world who do you turn, too? Where do you find a purpose---a reason---to keep on living? Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Major Spoilers for 'Shells' Disclaimer: Our wonderful Joss created them I had nothing to do with it---wish I had. Feedback: Please feed the muse or it will crumble to dust ;-) E-mail: foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com Author's note: Dedicated to the best crew of creative people on network television. ~~~~~~ Illyria ~~~~~~ I fall to my knees in what was once my temple. The center of my kingdom. I was the ruler of this world, but now there is nothing left. Just a crumbling ancient tomb filled with the dust of my army---an army that was to be awaiting my rebirth. The humans I had left behind were bound and determined to destroy me. But they have been beaten to that honor for time herself has destroyed me. Yes, I still exist. I have a physical form, all that I am though has been destroyed. I am but a shell of what I once was. When I hear him speak I turn and look into his human eyes trying to understand the words he speaks. Is it true, I wonder, that what he feels is anything close to what I feel in this moment? I dare not contemplate these things so I flee from what remains of my world. ~~~~~~~ Wesley ~~~~~~~ Nothing has eased this aching emptiness that I feel. A hollow deep well where my soul and my heart should be. All that remains is a shell. A body that goes through the motions of a man that has crumbled to dust. Nothing could make the pain disappear. Not pushing that knife into the gut of a man I once called a friend. Not pulling the trigger and watching the spray of Knox's life blood paint the cold marble of that floor. Nothing. Until I looked into her eyes. Illyria. The demon who destroyed my world was now on her knees with a look of shock on her pale otherworldly face. It seemed poetic justice that she who had destroyed my world had lost her own in a heartbeat. No army. No temple. Nothing, but dust. I wanted to pull the trigger, but for some reason it seemed better not, too. Before I could reconsider she was gone---vanished like a ghost---leaving me to look out on an ancient world that would never be reborn. ~~~~~~ Illyria ~~~~~~ Standing in the doorway I watch his move- ments as he packs away small objects. The remains of the human life which this shell once possessed. His pain is etched in his face. It shines in his eyes---eyes the color of the sky that overlooks this world. A world that I no longer understand, one that I am no longer a part of and never will be. When I finally speak his voice is filled with a strained anger. His anger is not with me though---this I know---it is turned inward at himself. He believes that he could have done something to save the shell and this surprises me. He is just human. How could he believe he could stop the resurrection of an Old One? There is a part of the shell that still exists inside me. Memories. Faint whispers of this Winifred Burkle. I find myself wanting to understand this human male who stands before me. So I try to share these memories, but he cries out in dispair. I do not understand why he reacts like this. Does he not grieve for the shell? I thought to ease his grief by sharing what little remains of this woman who gave her life so that I could be reborn. Perhaps I think he is seeking a way to ease his pain which I do not understand. Just as I seek a way to understand this world that I no longer recognize. My offer to him is simple. Teach me. Be my protector. I see in his eyes the pain that my face brings to his human soul. That pain assures me that he will accept my offer. Though his mind understands that his love no longer exists his heart does not. A part of him yearns to be with her once more, even if it's a shell of who she was. ~~~~~~~ Wesley ~~~~~~~ God I know she is gone. My beautiful sunshine, the girl of my dreams, my beloved Fred. Her soul was destroyed there is no doubt, but my heart will not let her go. And though I know in mind that this shell that stands before me is not her, my heart screams in denial. Why must I be the strong one? My strength has slipped away. It vanished with that precious light that burned away just last night in my arms. I look into those icy blue eyes and my heart convinces me they are warm brown. That they are filled with love for me and only me. With each second that ticks by I feel her slipping from my memories. So many little things that I relished over the years. Her scent. The way she moved. The smile in her heart that shone bright in her eyes. And God help me the way she would prattle on about things that even I didn't understand. Bright as the sun. "Yes." I whisper in answer to Illyria's question. She is all that remains of a love as fresh as the dew drenched heather on an English morning. The others will not understand. Perhaps they will think me mad with grief, perhaps I am, but I must cling to this last thread of hope. A hope that will either lead me deeper into the bowels of hell or will by some miracle lead me home. The End